


Last Meeting of the Day

by marimoes



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Rated M for a suggestive ending, Secretary!Lucci
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: His presence is a constant in Iceburg’s life. Always hovering just out of view before stepping forward to deal with something else. When he tries to commend him, Lucci simply brushes it off with a wave of a hand and a tweak of a smile.“It’s my job.”
Relationships: Iceburg/Rob Lucci
Kudos: 16





	Last Meeting of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> What if Lucci got the secretary gig instead? What if we got dockworker Kalifa?? Oda...the chance you had.

His presence is a constant in Iceburg’s life. Always hovering just out of view before stepping forward to deal with something else. When he tries to commend him, Lucci simply brushes it off with a wave of a hand and a tweak of a smile. 

“It’s my job.” 

This is all he says, time and time again. Lucci has never been an overly talkative man and in some way Iceburg appreciates it. At times though, when the days are long and he finds himself with papers piled to the rim of his glasses, he wishes he spoke more. 

Would make things a little less lonely, he thinks.

Sometimes, Iceburg can coax him. After everyone is gone and it’s just the two of them left in his office, Iceburg will pull out a bottle of brandy hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk. 

He will set out two glasses, three inches apart from each other, and pour the glasses half full. Lucci will eye it cautiously, but he will always come. With hands casually stuffed into his pockets, Lucci nearly floats with languid steps across the room towards Iceburg’s desk. 

A glance above the lenses of his glasses, Iceburg smiles while watching Lucci sit in the chair in front of him. One that Iceburg placed no more than an hour ago. That when Lucci returned to the room, he checked the schedule quietly to see who exactly Iceburg would be meeting with. 

When no name was listed, Iceburg watched as his secretary gave a small and knowing smirk.

That was an hour and two brandys ago. Lucci is now laughing, low and sweet while his elbows rest against the desk with Iceburg’s doing the same. A perfect mirror of different men, each with their own goals in the back of their minds. 

“So, tomorrow,” Lucci says, leaning back into his chair once more, “do you want me to go on the inspection tour of the dock four warehouses without you?” 

Iceburg’s brows furrow before waving a dismissing hand. “No, I’ll go. You can join me if you like, but well, it’s not necessary.” 

Lucci gently swishes the brandy in his right hand, letting the dark liquor kiss the rim of the glass before settling. He doesn’t particularly _want_ to go out onto the docks, and staying behind would mean he could easily search Iceburg’s office while he was gone. 

But he also knows that this visit isn’t just a walk through. That Iceburg is going to likely work alongside the foremen for a while. His usual jacket and button up traded for a tank, no doubt still marked with oil and grease from the last visit. 

He has plenty of time to find the documents. There is no rushing this, after all. 

This, being Iceburg’s hand reaching out over the deep red of the rosewood desk, palm up. Unspoken question sitting in it, just as it’s been for months now: _come home with me?_ It’s rare, but on occasion when he’s tangled in his thoughts of the mission and the things he still has to complete, Lucci will decline with a stone face.

Tonight is not one of those nights. 

Hand in Iceburg’s palm, he gives his silent answer and Iceburg expects no less. For he knows the man before him, with no words that leave his lips, will soon shift the moment the lights are low and all prying eyes are away. 

How Lucci transforms right in front of him never stops being an uncut gem, gleaming in secret only held in Iceburg’s hand. Lucci’s hands are hungry yet precise while they pull away Iceburg’s layers one at a time. The act in any other sense would seem helpful, watching his secretary neatly hang and fold the pieces to send them away to be cleaned the next day. 

With Lucci, it’s anything but. Each piece only grows the electricity between them, until Lucci is bent, eye level with Iceburg’s garters and it feels like they may just combust. 

Delicate and precise, Lucci undoes them one at a time, tugging the pieces off Iceburg’s calves. Most nights, they will be set aside together and neatly arranged next to where he keeps his shoes. There are nights however, like tonight, where he doesn’t take care. Where his fingers dig at the black straps that are secured around Iceburg, and when Lucci undoes them, it’s like a part of him comes undone as well. 

His mouth presses against the lines made into Iceburg’s leg, hot and open against skin. 

Iceburg sighs and begins to lean down to pull him upwards. Trying to bring the desperate kiss against his lips, but Lucci stops him. With a soft, yet demanding, hand held upwards and Iceburg complies. 

Hands joining together, Lucci pushes against the tense muscle of Iceburg’s leg. Working slowly and precise up the length of him until he hears it. That soft moan of satisfaction that leaves Iceburg’s lips when Lucci does something right. 

God, does he love it. 

It’s only then does he stand up further on his knee to let Iceburg pull him closer into the awaited kiss. They slip against each other with ease, locking into their familiar pace, sucking and kissing faster and faster until they pull apart for air. 

“Is this why you don’t talk?” Iceburg asks in a breathless mumble against Lucci’s lips, “To save them?” 

Lucci grins, kissing him once more before running his tongue quickly across his bottom lip, “I just don’t see the point in speaking when my actions say more than enough. That, and it doesn’t hurt that you seem to love keeping me for yourself.” 

Iceburg tsks, dismissal uncertain, and with a cautious eye he watches Lucci as he places a hand beneath his chin. He holds him there, eyes studying him for a moment while his thumb sweeps against the black of his beard. Lucci always seems out of his grasp, yet happily held within it. It leaves Iceburg in a personal tug of war between what is best for the man that is always at his side, but also what he may desire. 

None of that is on his mind now, though. 

“Stay,” Iceburg commands in a murmur and if it weren’t for the two brandys in his system, he would likely say more. 

He would try to explain just how wild Lucci drives him, and how thankful he is to have him by his side. How he longs to feel that more at night too, hands wrapped around his toned waist with kisses pressed into his hair. None of it needs to be said, though — Lucci knows. 

Regardless, the command makes Lucci swallow. To let this man hold him, command him day in and out, it goes against everything he’s learned over the years. Lucci wants to tell himself that he’s doing this all to get close to Iceburg, to learn what he needs to and get out of this island as fast as he can, but he can’t. 

Because while part of that is true, and led to him even taking this job in the first place, he’s seemed to fall into something else. 

When Iceburg tells him to do things, not asking in the slightest, but _commands_ — Lucci finds himself caught. He wants to do it and do it well. To see a proud shine in Iceburg’s eyes affects him in ways that he would rather die than to admit, but it happens all the same. 

When that low voice desires something, Lucci’s heart jumps. 

Willingly held beneath the heel of a man he could dispatch in only moments, and he loves it. What an unknowing fate he’s met here in Water 7. He can’t imagine what it would be like if he had taken Kalifa up on the offer for them to switch places. 

Being on the docks along the others would have its appeal. Certainly it would allow him to work out some of his occasional aggression, as well as let him be near his cohorts, but it would be far from Iceburg. 

He would probably hate it. Especially knowing what he does now. 

Lucci doesn’t answer Iceburg’s command, only leans forward to take another kiss. His hands trail from Iceburg’s thighs to his bare chest, hovering only for a second before curling beneath his chin. 

Again, they mirror. 

Iceburg tugs upwards against his chin to stand, and with a feeling Lucci can only label as euphoric, he lifts to his feet. Whatever it is that Iceburg is about to request of him, his mind is blurred in anticipation and he’s hard against his thigh. To be rendered useless by a single command — how pathetic. 

“When I say stay, Lucci,” Iceburg says, hand moving from his chin to thread into his hair. His fingers tighten around a small section right behind Lucci’s ear and he holds his gaze down to him. “I mean stay.” 

Now hovering over him, Lucci catches his reflection in Iceburg’s lenses. His eyes are wide, pupils nearly slitted in excitement, and he takes a slow breath in. If he gives himself away now, everything will be for not. 

“Yes, sir,” Lucci murmurs, closing his eyes. He feels Iceburg’s hand loosen in its hold, only to pull tighter as it slips to the back of his head. 

When he opens his eyes, Iceburg is leaned upwards lips less than a hair's breadth from his own. A smirk pulls on them, knowing, and the heat of Iceburg’s breath dances across his skin. They meet for a single, short kiss before Iceburg pulls to hover next to Lucci’s ear. 

“Well,” Iceburg sighs, the single word burning against Lucci’s ear and it makes him twitch harder against his thigh, “get undressed.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @__moes__  
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle


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